Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: L is almost 17, investigating a serial murder case near Toronto University. Undercover as a student prodigy, L will have to find a balance between education, investigation, and (ye gods) a social life. Rated M for language/nudity/gore. Some spoilers for Death Note: Another Note.

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I'm everyone (I'm everyone)

Hang your label on me

I'm everyone (I'm everyone)

Paint it black and white and easy

I've seen attention

See through me

I want perfection

I'm real need

Call on me (call on me)

Spin spin sugar

Crawl on me (crawl on me)

Spin spin sugar

Stinks on me (stinks on me)

Spin spin sugar

Twists for me (twists for me)

Spin spin sugar

– excerpt from "Spin Spin Sugar", Sneaker Pimps

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The Worst Feeling Ever

Chapter 16: Froth Flung High

"I have a bad feeling about this evening."

He had not been the intended audience for that remark, but his sharp ears had picked it up in the otherwise silent suite, coming through the secure cell phone Watari held. He did not recall exactly what Watari had said in response, but the reassuring reply had not erased the disquiet induced by the uncharacteristic statement. L is usually annoyingly confident, Aleister thought, and he never goes on about his feelings, or acknowledges having them for that matter. Aleister had plenty of bad feelings about this evening, and potentially all evenings until the investigation was over, but to hear L say that . . . I'd best keep an eye on him, he thought.

The feeds had been divided among the three of them at L's behest. Watari's explanation was that L thought the Butcher was likely to engineer a drop to coincide with the Bal de la Moisson occurring on campus – the harvest theme seemed too ripe for the murderer not to bite. Aleister had wondered aloud whether they should have planted cameras within the ballroom, and Watari, though conceding he had a point, had said that it was too late to do so unnoticed. They would need to compensate by paying special attention to the cameras nearest to Trinity Hall, which housed the ballroom.

When he'd moved into Watari's two-bedroom suite just outside Toronto, Aleister had been surprised at the amount of space that had been procured, but he later surmised that the older man had intended the second bedroom to go to L once L gave up the notion of needing to immerse himself on campus. It seems I'm not the only one underestimating L's stubbornness, he thought, opening a separate window on his computer screen. He'd pulled the desk in his small room out from the corner so that his back would neither be to the door or the window when he was at it, and though he supposed his rearrangement was unnecessary, Watari hadn't said anything to him about it. The crisply made bed was just visible past the computer monitor, the floral coverlet waging less of an assault on his eyes now that the lights were low and night had fallen.

Aleister kept one window on his screen fixed on a view of L's room as he scrolled through the other camera feeds assigned to him in the other window. His view of Trinity Hall was of one side where a path connected it to a parking lot, but he knew L had a prime view of the front entrance. Different views of the many pathways between the university and the hospital flitted by his eyes, none of them revealing anything unusual. Yet, he cautioned himself. Aleister knew that L was watching a number of on-campus sites, including views of the capped opening behind the cafeteria and the paths and buildings between it and Trinity Hall. For his part, Watari was watching locations closer to the hospital and a few by the Admin Building, as well as the now-vacated hotel room he'd shared with Beyond. Aleister knew that Watari was trying to spare him the pain, and he wished that he had had the strength to argue with him.

With each new view he switched to in one window, he flicked his eyes briefly to the other. No real need to keep watch on Mr. Bump-on-a-Log, Aleister thought; he'll likely not move all night. I'm just being paranoid. Aleister sighed. Steady on and keep watch – anything could lead us to catch the murderer and find Beyond. Jaw locked, he swallowed and kept clicking through feeds.

Something caught his eye as he paused on a view of the path near the birdbath – but not in that window. Aleister glanced at the other one and saw L stepping down from the bed, an annoyed expression on his face. Before he turned back to the other feeds, the light from L's monitor went out, dropping his room into darkness. He . . . did he just turn off his computer? Aleister wondered, aghast. After a moment, the overhead light went on, and Aleister could see L approaching the door. A woman entered the room, to L's apparent consternation, and she gestured dismissively at him. Aleister found himself automatically extracting his headphones and accessing the audio for the room.

"Nonetheless, I do not recall inviting you in." L's dry tone entered his ears.

"Good thing I wasn't waiting then." The woman's voice was playfully defiant. Aleister knew he'd seen her, though they had not spoken to each other.

"Why are you here?"

"Because I knew you'd be here, dummy."

Aleister stifled a laugh at the notion of anyone calling L stupid. Now I remember – Danielle, isn't it? Aleister thought. She's the roommate of the sort of Lisa Loeb-looking one, Janine, I think.

"That does not –"

"Look, I've been trying to figure you out since you got here, and I think I finally got it."

"Oh really." Seeming resigned, L finally shut his door and took a few steps toward her. "Then by all means enlighten me."

"Don't worry, I will. At first, I figured you were just another smart weirdo – no shortage of those around here – but something about you always seemed a little more . . . off than most." Danielle tossed her blonde ponytail, and Aleister wondered if this situation was going to warrant intervention on L's behalf. He noted that L had adjusted his position so that he could assume a fighting stance if the need arose, so Aleister chose not to raise the alarm yet.

"You have consistently referred to me as a 'freak,' so I fail to see how this represents any variation on that assessment."

"Oh, you are a freak. Just not the kind most people take you for." Danielle gave L an appraising look. "Did you know that I had to talk Janine down from thinking you were this murderer?"

L lowered his brow, glaring through his hair. "I did not."

"When they showed you in handcuffs on the news, she freaked out – a lot of people did. She was like, 'I can't believe it was him the whole time, and I didn't know it.' She didn't tell anyone but me, and I told her she was wrong."

L's body seemed to be tensing. "And how would you know that?"

"You're not the type."

"What a coherent evaluation." Sarcasm suffused L's voice. "So essentially, you have no proof that I'm not a murderer."

"See, it's shit like that that makes people think you are, Zeke. But I never said you weren't a murderer. You're just not the type to be this murderer."

Eyes widening, L straightened up slightly. "Interesting. What is your reasoning?"

Danielle smiled. "OK, first, you're very methodical. The way you eat, the way you stack things," she gestured to the tower of textbooks looming next to the desk, "the way you do pretty much everything. You have systems for your behaviors, and probably rationalizations for each system. That's definitely at odds with the way the Missing Parts Killer, or whatever we're supposed to call that fuck, is doing stuff. He's chucking body parts all over with no real rhyme or reason."

"I do not believe that he has no system or reasoning behind his actions." L was frowning.

"Maybe so, but it's not the kind of system you would think up. You're way too picky and organized to be that haphazard."

"I'm not sure that I –"

"Let me finish," Danielle interrupted. "Second, you like solving puzzles, not making them. I've seen you do it – any crossword puzzle you find lying around, the old Rubik's Cube Allison brought to your cakefest, the way you do your homework, whatever. Even finding that lady's cat last month was a puzzle for you. This murderer? He's not trying to solve anything. That asshole just wants everyone to jump to his tune. He wants attention – another thing you don't like."

"Speaking of . . ."

"Third, the killer isn't interested in connecting with people except to take them apart, but you've actually been muddling through a bunch of social stuff that you've obviously never dealt with before. It interests you enough that you're trying to understand it – like it's another puzzle, basically. The murderer doesn't give a shit about human beings! This is some kind of fucking game to him. He's toying with people like they don't mean anything. And then there's the fourth reason." Danielle jabbed a finger in L's direction. "You're keeping a secret."

Aleister held his breath, and it looked like L was holding his as well.

"You don't want anyone to know that you're not a jerk at all!"

L exhaled audibly, his eyes half-lidded. "I assure you, I can find several reliable sources who would disagree with you."

"Oh, I'm sure. But here are two clear examples to prove them wrong: one, you rescued a fucking cat. Seriously? It doesn't get more classic good guy than that. And two, you set the girl you obviously like up on a date with another guy, who also likes her, because you wanted them to be happy." Danielle folded her arms, expression triumphant.

"You are presuming positive motivations for my actions. You have no proof of why I did either of those things."

"Uh-huh. I'm pretty good at reading people. If what I just said was untrue, you wouldn't be blushing."

"That's – even if that's so, this has nothing to do with the murderer." L's tone was clipped.

"Please – some sick motherfucker who chops people up and leaves their parts out like Easter eggs to be found has no human empathy. To do what you did, empathy is required. Therefore, you're not the killer."

L stared at her for a few moments. "Is that all you needed to tell me? Because I have a number of things I need to work on . . ."

"They can wait." Danielle took a few steps toward L. "I came here to help you."

The sound of L's sharp exhalation carried in the room. "What exactly do you think you can help me with?"

"Well, back when that whole kiss-tastrophe went down with you and Janine, I thought you were a jerk, or gay, or both. But I've watched you since then. You weren't pissed off or snickering about it to friends later. I caught you giving her the sad puppy eyes a couple times, but you didn't try to win her back. You gave her space – which she needed, by the way – and then you . . . unselfishly fixed her up with someone you knew would be nice to her. It's been awhile since I've seen her so happy, you know?" Danielle's smile seemed unguarded. "I think she and Geoff make a great couple."

"I am glad that you think so." L's tone was droll. "Now –"

"So you wanted her to be happy, which is awesome. But you didn't want to be happy."

L blinked. "My emotional state is irrelevant."

"Is it?"

"If your goal in coming here was to make me happy," L said, rolling his eyes, "I'm afraid you've missed your mark."

"Then I'll get to the point. You're a virgin, right?"

L's mouth popped open before he seemed to recover himself and reclose it, somehow failing to come up with a verbal response as silence hung between them.

"It's why you reacted badly to the kiss." Danielle's voice was slightly less brash. "I mean, I get it, you're a prodigy, a brainiac – you've probably been ahead of the curve your whole life school-wise, but socially . . . not so much. So when it happened, it wasn't just the kiss itself, it was the implication of where it might lead. You freaked out."

"I did no such thing." L jammed his hands in his pockets, mouth twitching. "She caught me off-guard and I reacted badly."

"Chill, OK? I'm not here to rub your face in it."

"Really." L's eyes were half-lidded again, and he slouched past the blonde so that he was no longer between her and the door. "Your complete lack of taunting has won me over. How do you propose to help me, then?" His tone was biting as they both turned as if squaring off, facing each other next to the shaded window. "A lesson, perhaps?"

"Pretty much." Danielle closed the distance between them quickly, clasping L's face with both hands and kissing him. L's eyes bugged, and he seemed to struggle to free his hands from his pockets, but she broke the kiss before they emerged. "Look, Ezekiel, you did something nice and unselfish for my friend. And one day, you're going to meet someone else you want to be with. Don't you want to be better prepared?" She let her hands slip from him.

"There is . . . no guarantee that I will meet anyone I want to 'be with' as you put it, and it is extremely presumptuous of you to assume that I would want that, or that I would want you, for that matter, but my . . . preparations are entirely my concern. It makes no sense that you would want to 'help' me in this way. You do not like me." The torrent of words stopped, his eyes flashing.

"Correction: I didn't like you. I changed my mind."

"No one simply changes their mind."

"Who said it was simple?" She put a hand on her hip. "I'll phrase it your way: I reassessed my impression of you based on new information."

L glowered. "And what makes you think that I like you?"

"Nothing. Hell, it'd probably work in your favor if you don't like me since there'd be no chance you'd get attached."

"That's . . ." L shook his head as if to clear it. "Are you not concerned that your . . . 'being' with me might hurt Janine's feelings?"

"Well, I'm not going to tell her, and neither are you. The thing is, I agree with you. She deserves better than you. She deserves to date someone who can be there for her both physically and emotionally. That's why Geoff is right for her. He's shy, but he's not inexperienced or tactless."

Face blank again and hunching further, L took a step back, closer to the wall. "You're really convincing me. It must be your superior tact."

Danielle grinned. "I wouldn't waste tact on you. I figured the direct approach would work better. And if you didn't like the idea at all, you would have thrown me out by now." She took a step forward.

L was unmoving, staring at her as if that might cause her to disappear. "This is not appropriate, or logical."

"See, that's your problem right there – you're using logic. Doesn't apply."

"Incorrect. Logic always –"

Danielle stopped his mouth with her own, her hands slipping over his cheeks and tangling in his hair as she surged up against him, the curve of his back hitting the wall. L's hands pushed at her hips and then moved up to grip her shoulders, allowing him to pull back as he straightened.

"I cannot do this."

Sighing, Danielle looked up at L. "I get it, OK? I'm not your first choice. Hell, I'm probably not even your hundredth choice. But whatever logical flaws you think you're finding, there's nothing wrong with us doing this. It's just sex. I'm not looking for a boyfriend, if that's what you're worried about."

"Is this a common practice for you?" L's tone sounded more withering than usual. "'Helping' people by teaching them how to fuck properly?"

Danielle laughed, her head tilted back. "You'd be my first student, actually." She tossed her ponytail back over her shoulder, blonde hair whisking past his knuckles. "But fucking is easy, dumbass. It's the fear you have to learn to get past."

"The . . . You think that I am afraid?" L's eyes seemed like they might burn holes through her.

"I know you're afraid. One little kiss scared you, so sex must seem terrifying."

Flicking his eyes at the ceiling, L dropped his hands from her shoulders and turned his gaze to the side, toward his abandoned computer. "I think that you are confusing terror with disinterest."

"Oh, I can prove you wrong on that one, too."

L regarded her warily, straightening his spine slightly as he pressed against the wall, away from her. "Unlikely."

Danielle raised an index finger. "Observe." Placing her hands on his collarbone, she let them slip down over his chest and belly as she moved closer. L averted his face to miss her lips, and she pressed them to his throat instead, her head inclining as she placed kisses from his adam's apple to the back edge of his jaw before capturing his earlobe in her teeth, sucking at it, causing his eyes to close for a moment. Danielle let her hands toy with the hem of his shirt before they diverged to grip his hips, her thumbs riding the edge of his hipbones. Tracing her tongue back down his neck, Danielle pressed against him as L stared at the ceiling, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Abruptly, she slipped her hands around to grab the curve of his butt, unmindful of L's gasp as she ground her hips into his.

"Wait . . ."

Danielle lifted her head and claimed his mouth once more, and after a moment, L bent closer, seeming to accommodate her. His hands were splayed against the wall behind him. Nearly a minute passed, their mouths open to each other, tongues entwining, before she pulled back and brought one hand around to trace the now-obvious outline pressing L's pants outward. "There," she said. "Proof. Definitely not disinterest."

"Response to stimuli. Unavoidable." L sounded out of breath.

"Exactly." Danielle smiled. "A completely normal human response, and therefore nothing to be afraid of. Since you're studying to become a doctor anyway, you should probably get familiar with all of the human bodily functions . . . directly."

"Mm. I expect my medical acumen to be best applied in research."

"Not all research happens in a lab."

They stared at each other, L jutting from the wall like an outsize wall sconce. Danielle tipped her head to one side, not pressing closer but not moving away, still smiling, still palming L's crotch.

L's mouth worked. "I . . ." His eyes darted away and back. "Will it take long?"

A throaty laugh spilled from Danielle. "I'm gonna guess probably not."

They stared at each other for a few seconds before L's hands came hesitantly off the wall to alight on Danielle's hips as her hands fell to her sides. Inclining his head, L seemed to be surveying her as terrain to be traversed. Full body scan complete, L met her eyes. An oddly unhinged expression appeared on his face, and he gripped her and spun, pinning her to the wall, his mouth swooping in to meet hers as if in hunger. A gap remained between their bodies, two empty parentheses, as Danielle brought her arms up and over his shoulders. L broke the kiss, tearing his mouth away only to move in again, worrying at her ear with teeth and tongue.

"Oh, you learn fast. That's good." Danielle reached up, entwining the fingers of one hand in his hair while tracing the other along his back.

Abruptly, L dodged back out of Danielle's grasp, face flushed and eyes wide. "I do not want it known that this has happened." He flicked his eyes to a corner of the room – a corner which housed a camera. Aleister jumped.

He knows I'm watching! Aleister thought, not listening to the girl's response. Wait – no, he didn't ask how we divided the camera feeds that he's not watching, so he likely thinks Watari is watching him. In fact, he probably said that because he'd rather Watari kept this from me, not the other way round. Aleister flushed, torn between wanting to laugh or scream in anger. He considered turning away, shutting the window, and ignoring L completely, but he knew that the cameras were in L's room for one reason: to keep him safe. If I look away, and he's harmed . . .

Grimacing, Aleister fumed at L for allowing himself to be seduced, for desiring someone who didn't really care about him, and for being able to feel desire, to feel anything, when Beyond was gone, when Beyond was . . . No, Aleister thought, I've already decided Beyond's fate. He's alive. Now I've got to make sure L stays that way too.

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He'd since lost track of the time, but didn't dare look away.

"There is something you failed to teach me."

Danielle snorted. "There's a whole list of things I didn't teach you. This was Driver's Ed, not Advanced Stunt Driving." She gazed at him, propped up on her elbows. "So what'd I miss?"

"Proper condom etiquette." Still crouched over the puddle, L met her eyes. "I completely forgot about that until now. Not that I have any of them . . ."

Chuckling, Danielle tossed her hair so that it swept behind her in a golden wave. "Well, I actually brought one, but I got a little more . . . caught up in the moment than I expected. Don't worry about it, though. I know you must be clean since this is your first time – right?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Correct."

"And I promise, I'm clean too. Got myself tested after dumping the boyfriend five months ago – all clear."

"You have not had sexual intercourse since then?" L sounded surprised.

"Nope. Not 'til now." Danielle winked.

"What would you say are the odds of my having impregnated you?"

"Pretty low. I'm on the pill."

"Understood." L nodded, thumb at his mouth. "I suppose I should have ascertained all of this earlier."

"Yeah, but it's good you're thinking of it now." Danielle drew back, swinging her legs over and dismounting from the bed to stand facing away from him. "You'll remember for next time."

"Next time?" L raised his eyebrows, back straightening. "Will there be a follow-up lesson?"

Her smile was gentle as she cast a glance over her shoulder. "No. I mean the next time you have sex with someone." Danielle walked toward the tangle of clothes.

"Oh." L shifted on the bed, still crouching as he watched her dress. Tilting his head, he seemed to memorize the reverse process, pink and blue clothing slipping softly over flesh, concealing what had been hidden to him.

Shoving her knotted bra into a pocket, Danielle approached L. "Here." She tucked something square into his hand. "Keep it. For next time."

Taking it by the corner, L lifted the wrapped condom to eye-level. "Lubricated? That would hardly have been necessary."

Danielle laughed. "A little extra never hurts. See ya, Ezekiel." She turned to move toward the door.

"Wait." L hopped off the bed to stand next to her. "Thank you." He extended his hand.

Blinking at him in apparent disbelief, she shook his hand. "No problem. And I'll keep it a secret, like you asked, as long as you do too."

"Of course. I appreciate your discretion." L bowed his head slightly and let go of her hand.

Danielle took a few more steps to the door before hesitating and turning back. "Aw hell."

"Hm? What is –" L's mouth was stopped by hers once more, her fingers tracing his jawline as their tongues met one last time.

Breaking the kiss and pulling back, Danielle took a deep breath, her green eyes meeting his grey ones. "Last one. Promise." Turning on a heel, she moved swiftly to the door, swinging it open and shutting it behind her without another look back.

"As you wish," L mumbled absently.

He stood naked in the center of the room, staring as if he had forgotten something, or had been forgotten, his body a pale question mark. Though he was thin, he was no longer the knobby-kneed twelve-year-old he'd once been. L's lower ribs stood out, but not in such stark relief that he seemed starved. Between tennis and swimming – and judo and tai chi – he'd developed a bit of muscle tone that showed more when he moved. He no longer had reason to feel his childhood defensiveness about thin arms. The stark contrast between his pale skin and dark hair was almost jarring, yet held an appeal of its own – licorice and cream with hints of berry-pink in spots. L's head still seemed slightly too large for his body, though not so much that he resembled his old nickname "lollipop." The sight of him standing there, so close to adulthood, yet so far, alone in a distant room, was almost too much to bear.

Aleister removed the headphones, hands still shaking, and closed the separate window on his monitor that showed L's room. He maximized the other window as he continued to scroll through the other camera feeds. Light from the screen allowed him to find a tissue, and he mopped himself up, his face still hot, mind afire with conflicting emotions. Tissue spent, he tossed it, hearing it thud solidly at the bottom of the wastebasket. Aleister remembered catching L just after his thirteenth birthday in the Wammy House library with an anatomy book and The Joy of Sex open on a back table. At the time, L had said that he needed to understand why people were so motivated by sex that they sometimes committed unspeakable acts to obtain or defend it – things like rape, torture, and murder. L had characterized his interest as research.

Was this research too? Aleister wondered, lips twisting. He understood the need for human contact, for release and relief, especially at times of high stress or in the wake of a loss. Understanding, however, was not the same as forgiveness. Aleister scowled, clicking through feed after feed, the champagne-tinged light of L's room popping up in the sequence in contrast to the shadowed greenery in every other image. If the murderer gets away because of this, Aleister thought, if we don't find Beyond . . . I will never forgive myself. Or L.

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UPDATED Author's Note: My apologies to anyone who enjoyed the previous version of this chapter. It required some revision to remain on this site. Review if you like, or send me a message. If you have any questions, I'll do my best to answer.

I kept this entire section in Aleister's PoV, since he was observing, but I wanted to give the impression that he was transfixed by what he saw, so his thoughts didn't intrude too often on what was happening. Danielle's theories on why L isn't the murderer are interesting, but as with any individual's views, I'd take it with a grain of salt. She's smart, but she's not on L's level and she doesn't really have that detective mindset.

Thanks for reading!